After stabbing Thomas, the visionless Angel remained vigilant. She reversed her grip, pulled out the dagger, waited one heartbeat, then plunged it back into the original wound. A muffled groan escaped Thomas as the blade found its mark for the second time.
With the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground, her whitened retinas regained function. In her darkness vision, the cellar brightened once more. Thomas lay on his back, one hand clutching the wound on his chest where the dagger had pierced through both palm and heart. His other hand, which had been clenched in a fist, slowly unfurled, releasing a delicate pocket watch that rolled across the stone floor.
"Clement wasn't wrong. Without a weapon, this guy fights like a rookie, completely incapable..."
Angel studied Thomas as he convulsed briefly before going limp.
"No—am I affected by the Sealed Artifact? Why would I have such an underestimating thought?"
She broke into a cold sweat and quickly tore off the "2-031" from her right hand, stuffing it into her pocket.
As the "Hand of Proclamation" left her body, her inflated self-confidence rapidly faded.
Lucky I witnessed Rupert's miserable state, or I might not have shaken off the Artifact's negative effects so quickly. Angel approached Thomas with caution, squatted down, and extracted the dagger from his chest. The heart-stopped body didn't spray blood like a living person's would; instead, dark red liquid merely flowed from the puncture wound.
The blood... Angel recalled the item she had discarded—the bloodthirsty "Bloodthirst"—whose metallic scent now permeated the cellar. She picked it up using a corner of her coat and returned to Thomas's side.
Even without direct contact, "Bloodthirst" made her dizzy and weak, as if suffering from severe anemia. She placed the magical item onto Thomas's bleeding chest. The blood from his wound was immediately absorbed, making the corpse appear almost shriveled.
This one's definitely dead.
Angel's gaze shifted from the revolver that had feasted on an extraordinary's blood to the strange, exquisite pocket watch lying on the ground. She bent down and retrieved it.
The pocket watch was approximately two inches in diameter—rather bulky for a portable timepiece—with an oversized crown at the three o'clock position. The chain attachment was empty, and the brass case bore a triangular holy emblem covered in decorative gears and levers. The emblem was scratched and worn, showing its age.
A triangular holy emblem... The symbol of the "God of Steam and Machinery"?
She opened the cover to find the watch was broken. The hour hand pointed between eleven and twelve, the minute hand slightly to its left, and strangest of all, the second hand rotated counterclockwise—though at intervals identical to a normal clock.
11:58...a countdown?
She pressed the crown. The pocket watch emitted a soft "click," but the hands remained unchanged, still counting down precisely.
Angel searched Thomas's clothing again and found only some cash, several handgun bullets, and two silver coin-sized talismans.
These must be the "flash" talismans he used earlier. She examined the Hermes script on them, noting how different they were from those used by the Nighthawkss. Each church clearly has its own methods for crafting talismans.
This pocket watch must be what Thomas relied on for his "Magician" abilities—unless his magical item had fused with his body or is hidden somewhere else...
Not daring to place the watch directly into her pocket, Angel found a bullet box, nestled the small timepiece inside, and carefully sealed the lid.
Critical evidence and likely a powerful magical item. I'll hand it directly to the captain later.
The thought of keeping such an item—probably derived from a Sequence 7 extraordinary trait—crossed her mind. But Thomas's possession of a magical item had already been reported by the artisan Carvey to the "Heart of Machinery." Soon all official extraordinaries in Enmat Port would know—she had no opportunity for theft.
With that settled, Angel returned the bullet box to her pocket and secured the now-sated "Bloodthirst," its appearance normal again and bloody aura withdrawn, back in its holster. She returned to the center of the rubble-filled cellar.
Clement was curled behind a stone slab, clutching his abdomen.
Earlier, when Thomas had blasted the ceiling and massive chunks of stone rained down, Clement—affected by the Sealed Artifact—hadn't escaped the impact zone in time. Despite the agility granted by the "Sleepless" path, he'd been struck while fleeing.
When Angel had dragged him from the rubble, the Nighthawks captain of Enmat Port was unconscious, hands protectively covering his head.
Even with his confidence to face gods, when crushed by rubble, his first instinct was to protect his head...
She had intended to pull him clear of the cellar before examining his injuries, but Thomas had reappeared in the doorway. Left with no choice, she'd taken Clement's "Hand of Proclamation," donned it herself, and used the "Assassin" shadow infiltration ability to ambush Thomas from behind.
While she'd engaged Thomas, Clement had apparently regained consciousness, though his chest and abdomen, battered by falling debris, left him curled in pain.
"Captain, are you alright?" Angel asked.
"Do I look alright to you?" Clement's voice was distorted by pain. "Is that guy taken care of?"
"Stabbed in the chest twice. Definitely dead," Angel couldn't resist adding, "Just as you said—once his abilities were sealed, he wasn't much of a threat."
She kicked a piece of rubble aside.
"Though I was influenced by the 'Hand of Proclamation' at the time—became a bit arrogant."
Clement gave a bitter smile. Groaning, he endured the pain and extracted a small blue metal vial from his trench coat's inner pocket.
The "Goddess's Gaze"—a rare potion for temporary healing?
"Thanks, but I don't need it. Doesn't work well on gunshot wounds, right?" Seeing Clement offer her the vial first, Angel shook her head and watched as he raised it to his lips, taking a careful sip.
Almost instantly, the injuries that had left him barely able to sit upright were relieved. He extended his hand; Angel took it, pulled him up, and helped him limp toward Rupert, who lay unconscious by the door.
"Never expected that after killing the 'Rose Bishop,' we'd nearly fall to this 'Heart of Machinery' traitor," Clement sighed through gritted teeth.
"Rose Bishop? What path's extraordinary is that?" Angel had been puzzled since hearing this sequence mentioned during battle. The Nighthawkss' internal files contained no record of such a potion sequence.
"Sequence 6 of the 'Secret Prayer' path mastered by the 'Aurora Order.' Heard it from the Red Gloves." Clement explained. "Many Nighthawks records haven't been updated yet. They're fanatics crazy enough to self-harm in battle—difficult opponents. Their flesh, limbs, even entire bodies can be weaponized. They infiltrate shadows for ambushes and can plant flesh inside ordinary people to create living bombs."
"Like the flesh bomb earlier..." Angel murmured.
"Exactly. That Mr. C was probably already injured, not fully recovered. Otherwise, even with the Sealed Artifact, the two of us could at most have driven him back. Killing a 'Rose Bishop' would normally be nearly impossible."
They reached Rupert's side. Angel squatted to check his condition. The impulsive, reckless "Midnight Poet" now breathed steadily—still unconscious but apparently out of immediate danger.
"When I retrieved the Sealed Artifact earlier, I performed some emergency treatment. He'll need further examination—exposure to that evil god statue might have contaminated him. If not addressed promptly, he could lose control someday—or worse."
Evil god statue... that upside-down man? If flipped 180 degrees, it does resemble a certain Earth statue...
Angel suppressed the urge to glance again at the cross and statue. Supporting the unconscious Rupert between them, she and Clement slowly ascended the stairs, leaving the darkness of the cellar behind.